


Warmth

by Viridian5



Category: due South
Genre: Humor, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-27
Updated: 2002-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-02 09:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray has a quiet epiphany moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Circle quote challenge. The inspiring quote from Hal is in the text and after the end.

"It could have been much worse, Ray," Fraser said.

My boots made weird squelching noises as we walked back to the station, which did not bode well. Was there a way to clean puke out of leather? "You're kidding me."

"Actually, I'm not." He just about had that earnest Mountie halo shining over his head.

"Okay. Yeah, I guess it could have been worse. When that guy shot out my tire, I could have lost all control of the GTO and wrapped us around a lamppost. I could have fallen headfirst into that dumpster instead of feet first. Dief could've been with us and started rolling in the garbage. Instead of drizzling, it could be pouring and you wouldn't have an umbrella stashed away... wherever you stashed it." In fact, we'd matched our strides so we could share the umbrella as we walked, sharing our own little black umbrella world. "It could be damp and cold and windy instead of damp and chilly. I don't know a way to make that bum upchucking all over my favorite boots any worse, though."

"He could have died on your boots and bled all over them."

Trust Fraser to know a way it could be worse. "That's true. Okay, what could be worse than me smelling like puke and garbage?"

"I have lived among--"

"--among the musk ox. I know. Thing is, I am pissed off and need to calm down, so I'm treating myself." I tore a chunk off the lump of pink cotton candy in the bag in my hand. I'd washed my hands first, of course. The candy strands melted on my tongue, bringing an immediate sugar rush. Fraser didn't look completely disgusted, but he was close to it. "It's this, or I take up chain smoking again. This is much better. In America, first you get the sugar, then you get the power, then you get the women."

"Ray, you constantly have sugar, yet you haven't gained power or women from it."

With Fraser, he might know that I'd quoted Homer Simpson or he might not, but he had a teasing twinkle directed at me, so I played back. "You're so... literal."

Fraser almost smiled. "Yes, Ray."

"You never had cotton candy?"

"I'm afraid not."

"No traveling carnivals? You know, rides, the midway, tooth-rotting goodies?" I licked a bit of spun sugar fluff just so I could make little red liquid sugar beads on it.

"We did have Fletcher Bryce, who was a traveling carnival all by himself. His animal acts were especially impressive." Fraser did this head nod that said, "Yep, those were some damned fine animal acts."

He wanted me to ask, so I asked, "How could one man manage a bunch of animals from place to place?"

"He improvised with the local fauna."

Fraser never lied. Except when he did. He had this look like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but his eyes kept twinkling. We played like this to entertain one another, so sometimes he ladled on the upright Mountie strangeness, while I overdid the uncouth, kick-'em-in-the-head tough guy routine.

I said, "You are so full of it."

"Perhaps. However, there's a deeper truth there."

"Is this some thing where you tell me about the societal value and power of tall tales and folklore?"

And then one of us would jump the track by breaking out of character.

"Precisely, Ray." And he smiled full out, which made everything feel less miserable.

God, I loved him.

Wow. Yeah, I did, didn't I? I didn't get any fireworks, fanfare, or choir of angels during my big love epiphany moment like I'd gotten for Stella back when, but I felt real warm and comfy-cozy. Because I'd loved Fraser for a while and just needed some time to consciously realize it.

"You wanna try some cotton candy?" I asked.

When he took the small chunk from my hand, his fingers brushed mine. It gave me a nice little thrill. The face he made when he tasted the stuff gave me a laugh, though.

"It burns!" he said, then took the water bottle I offered and drank.

"Even my snacks kick ass."

He looked at me with such warmth that I wondered if his warmth matched my warmth. You know, if it was the same _kind_ of warmth. Then I got another whiff of myself and decided that the big warmth talk could wait, even if Fraser had once lived among the musk ox. No way I wanted to get into risky, squishy emotional stuff while I had the disadvantage of smelling like squishy garbage stuff.

Besides, I got the feeling that I already knew.

 

### End

 

My quote was:

_"In America, first you get the sugar, then you get the power,   
then you get the women."_  
  -- Homer Simpson


End file.
